Arthur leaned back against the crumbling brick wall, the cool surface pressing through his shirt, grounding him amidst the bizarre events of the day. He watched as Lily savored the red scrittle, her expression shifting between irritation and indulgence.
"Okay, fine," Arthur began, still holding his hands up in a mock gesture of surrender. "Let's go over this one more time. Yes, I'm sure the hobo isn't a god or a conceptual. I mean, he was wearing flip-flops and a Hawaiian shirt for crying out loud. Doesn't really scream divine being to me."
Lily rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth despite herself. "Flip-flops or not, you know better than anyone that appearances can be deceiving, especially in this city." She tossed another scrittle into her mouth, this one a deep blue, and let out a satisfied sigh as the flavor burst across her tongue. "Still, a prophecy about gathering the gifts of brethren sounds pretty conceptual to me."
